


names for my love

by mellowly



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bath Sex, Body Worship, Dark-haired Legolas just fyi because I do what I want, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, It's not very complicated, Loving Marriage, M/M, Nicknames, Post Ring War, Sindarin, They're just in love and married and fuckin' in the bath okay, True Love, Vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 02:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17174501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowly/pseuds/mellowly
Summary: elves love nicknames. gimli loves an elf.he gives the elf a lot of nicknames in the process of loving said elf.





	names for my love

To love, to be loved; to be in love, wholly and fully, is a delight. This Legolas ponders on as he pours sweet-smelling bathwater over his head with a crystal jug, letting rivulets stream down his body where he stands upright in his husband's private bath chambers. Steam swirls towards the roof, where droplets gather to drip down as a gentle summer rain.

He is not, he gathers upon hearing gentle footsteps upon the damp floor, alone.

“There you are, my lovely one, my _nendaer_.”

Gimli’s rumbling voice echoes through the chambers, accented Sindarin lingering in Legolas’ ears and making him shiver. It seems that his husband has been learning as of late. Legolas does not turn to look, rather sticks his head under the sluice leading to where warmed water is kept, and pulls the lever to let it fall over his hair and shoulders. He hears a quiet, appreciative hum, and only then does he turn, water drops still clinging to his eyelashes.

Gimli is clad only in a towel slung around his hips, beautiful in the low light of the bath - he steals his breath away, as always, especially when he approaches with eyes full of adoration and hardly concealed desire.

“So you have come for your share of the water? It is not yet cold,” Legolas teases as his husband lays the towel aside to get into the bath with him.

“Not only my share of the water, but the sweetness in it, _laichbenn_.”

They have not yet touched, but Legolas can feel his entire body growing warm and flushed to the very tips of his ears, and he shifts, wringing some of the water from his hair and letting it fall down his back in long, dark waves.

“Then have your share,” he says, without much ado, and kisses Gimli, slipping down to sit on the ledge carved into the bath, tipping his head up. His husband’s hands are in his hair already, slipping around to the back of his skull to cup it gently, calloused fingers caressing the soft strands. “There you are, my wonder,” Gimli murmurs, pulling away, surely seeing the way Legolas’ eyes are blown wide and dark and full of light and lust. “How I have longed for you.”

“And I for you.”

They kiss again, a soft slide of wet and warm and skin, touches exchanged in a play at teasing - hands on arms, on shoulders, slipping together until they are so close. Legolas flips them then, pushing Gimli onto the ledge to crawl into his lap, long legs bending and back arching. He lets his eyes rove freely now, admiring the broad shoulders and bright-red hair of his lover, the tattoos marking his pale skin, and scars Legolas will never tire of kissing.

“How beautiful you are,” says his husband while kissing his collarbones, his chest, strong arms around his waist and kneading into the jut of his hips and the strong muscle of his thighs. “My _landaer_ , my beauty, sing for me?”

And Legolas sings in gasps and breaths as they move together in the water, as Gimli’s hands slide lower still, loosening every part of him until Legolas is saying his name like a prayer, interrupted only with soft words of pleading. When Gimli holds the backs of his thighs and lets him sink down and down, there are no words in his voice, only pleasure.

“ _Girbenn-nin_ , my fair one, my own,” Gimli praises, squeezing the flesh of his sides, his back, helping him roll and thrust at his own pace, and Legolas bends down to kiss the words right out of his mouth, letting him pinch and pull at those soft, leaf-shaped ears until Legolas is gasping for breath.

 

They have each other many times, and with each kiss and touch Gimli has another word for him, another name to adorn him in as if they were gems - Legolas has his taste upon the damp floor in the steam, and Gimli calls him _lamdaer_ and pulls at his hair. He is _meluron_ , trembling when Gimli pushes his legs up, hands at the back of his knees, and bites into his neck, Legolas’ head thrown back in bliss. Back into the water, they hold each other close, and they make love one last, glorious time, _cadwobenn_ cried out between their slow movements until the entire world fades into the sensation of their skin together and the rightness in the fit of their bodies.

 

Legolas is nearly asleep, leaning into his husband wearily, relishing the slow drag of lazy hands through his hair, the warmth of the bath around them.

“Your Sindarin is coming along very well, _elen-nin_.”

“It is?” Gimli’s voice is sleepy and low.

“Yes, quite much so. Though you are terribly lewd.”

Legolas smiles and hides in the crook of his shoulder while Gimli laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> here are all the nicknames, translated
> 
> Landaer - naked groom  
> Nendaer - wet groom  
> Cadwobenn - shapely husband  
> Lamdaer - groom with a clever tongue  
> Girbenn - trembling husband  
> Laichbenn - sweet husband  
> Meluron - lovely one


End file.
